The Hunt

Chapter 11

Bellamy had been played. The minute he'd handed Lydia some blankets, he knew that he'd been had. There was no forgetting that victorious smile tugging at her lips as he'd given in to her request.

To be fair, he'd never have let her sleep with the crew. His men weren't known for their gentlemen ways. Neither was he, but at least he knew what was his to take and what wasn't. Well, when it came to women at least...gold was a whole other story.

Now he was in bed, a few feet away from a woman who seemed as cunning as he was. She'd manipulated him as he had her. He thought he'd been on top of the situation all along, that he'd get the information he needed and throw her back inside the hulk.

Plans had changed since she was now sleeping on his floor. He'd almost made her take the bed but then remembered that she wasn't some guest. She was a prisoner, dammit!

Prisoners didn't sleep in the captain's chambers.

But she'd looked so vulnerable and fragile as she'd stood there in front of him. He'd wanted to tear the limbs off of the men who'd dared touch her. Something was definitely wrong. This mermaid had him feeling things and he didn't like it one bit.

As he laid in bed, he tried to think about things that were more important. Like his treasure. A plan surfaced as he thought of the next steps he'd have to take in order to get closer to the calavera inocente. They were heading towards Britain. He'd need to acquire as much information as he could.

He had a few contacts there, like "The Hanging Goose" who was a pub he'd gotten to know well. The manager there always let them scavenge for information in return for some extra hands. Many times, Bellamy had given up one of his men in order to get information. Besides, some of the lads on his ship weren't cut out for piracy.

The young boy who'd come talk to him especially. He was weak, frail. He couldn't lift, couldn't work too hard. His bones were thin and fragile, his lungs were crushed under the work load. Bellamy was doing him a favor, letting him start his life over in Britain.

With a little luck, he'd pick up two pair of hands on his way. There were always runaways or thieves that were trying to escape land. Piracy found itself quite attractive when it came to running from the law.

Aye, the manager of "The Hanging Goose" would certainly help him out. The last time he'd been there had been two years ago. He'd been on the hunt for a rare cargo filled with silver and the night had quickly turned into a fight.

Bar stools had been broken and one of the manager's girl had been hurt. There were barely any more harlots in the pub due to its increasing bad reputation. The women didn't want to get hurt. It made them unattractive to the clientele they were looking for.

It hadn't really been Bellamy's fault. Finicky liked to gamble. He also liked to cheat. When three men had taken their pistols out, Bellamy and Finicky had become violent. Chaos had erupted and, in the mix, one saloon girl had been struck in the eye.

After that, they'd left but not without laughing and walking back to the ship, slightly drunk from the violence and liquor.

He didn't sleep that night. He just laid in bed, thinking of a strategy in order to find the calavera inocente and still be ahead of Captain Raven's ship. The bloody seadog would find him eventually but right now, Bellamy couldn't let that happen.

He had bigger fish to fry.

Starting by the one sleeping on his floor.

It was early in the morning when he heard the girl awaken. The sun hadn't even shown itself yet, letting Bellamy know that the entire ship was still asleep. Apart from him and Lydia of course. He laid silently in bed as she stood up.